


Best Friend

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crushes, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is like 4 years old now it hasn't aged well</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Friend

Pete was pretty much the most honest person he knew. Wether something was different in his coffee, a vampire kid dyed their hair again, more garish and blinding than before, he’d comment on it. His defining trait. Of course he had a filter, but for a more specific feeling than mild irritants or bland observations. Love. Or in perspective, crushes he kept to himself mail he’d over thought it and blocked it out. Being (one of) the only thing(s) he censored about himself, it was easy to pickup on. Flustered, annoyed and avoidant. Different avoidance, not the typical avoidance.  
   

 He was stuck trying to figure out wether he’d hit a nerve and made him angry, or Pete was over thinking something he’d said. Michael mentally crossed of the crush thing, because as far as he knew Pete wasn’t really interested in anyone, he just seemed to want to hangout with their friends more than usual. Michael is pretty sure it’s not a family thing, because Pete would tell them. Pete seemed to want to be around him especially, did he need to tell him something in confidence? They’d known each other the longest so they were pretty close. But if he wanted to have his attention, than why’d he get so distant all of a sudden? Three weeks of constant attention, then he immediately pulls away and gets distant. Shit, he probably did make Pete angry. He keeps tensing whenever Michael tries to talk to him directly, like a fights going to break out and Pete’s going to lose. He keeps acting like he’s fine, why does he have to be passive-aggressive like that? If Pete’s not going to tell him what’s wrong, Michael’s going to find out himself.

                                                                                                                     ———

Regret is starting to pool over in Pete’s mind, what he thought was going to be the daily routine of listening to records and chain smoking at Henrietta’s fell apart fast. How had he not noticed the storm clouds gathering around? Allegorical and literal. Firkle got driven home by Henrietta’s mom first, and its pouring like the Great Flood is nigh, so he had to hitch a ride with the one person who had preoccupied his thoughts for the past four weeks. Three weeks of nearly crawling up his ass with how close he was, and a week of treating him like he had super-tuberculosis. God, he almost felt bad for closing off the contact if not for the four times he had woken up red faced and reevaluating, and countless times daydreaming they were just a little bit closer, just the slightest bit and they would be touching-

‘ _Your best friend, you had to fall in love, with your **best**. **FRIEND**._ ’

But Michael’s voice drags him out of the mental self-hate parade.

“Pete, dude, car’s started. Get in.” He says, not rushing him or demanding. Heavy sounding though, and Pete knows this is tense.  
It doesn’t take long until Michael turns down the Morrissey playing, and asks him he question Pete hoped wouldn’t come up.

"Are you mad at me or something? You’ve been avoiding me all week."  
Oh. Not exactly the question Pete was thinking off, but close enough to make him nervous.

"I’m not mad at you Michael, I’m fine. It’s nothing too big-"

"Bullshit, you always get like this when you’re over thinking something. Did I like, say something?" He narrowed his eyes for a second- "Am I pushing in on something? You need to tell me, I’m really getting worried."

Shit, that was last thing Pete wanted to do. Part of him was enjoying Michael was thinking about him, but the majority was reeling back with disgust at how happy that made him and worry over Michael.

"Michael, I’m not angry. I swear it." He sighs, more mixed and clouded than before. He just wanted to pull over the car and just be as close together as they can so Pete can be secure around him.

Michael doesn’t want to accost the response, but he’s not going to push it forward. Pete will tell him eventually, that’s what they do.

                                                                                                                          ———-

Pete looks for excuses to be close to Michael and he tries as best he can not to be clingy, all while hating himself for wanting to be alone with him so bad. Michael is still worried why Pete’s still antsy around him, looking like he wants to scream and smile simultaneously.

Even if Michael’s touch on his wrist is cold, it’s intentional, it’s meaningful, and they end up being the best part of the concerts they all go to, and Michael’s clothing smells more like Pete’s awful hair dye and he starts to like it just because it reminds him.

Boundaries are blurring for the both of them, Pete doesn’t know where they stand and he’s tearing himself apart over it, and Michael notices Pete means more and more to him, it grows with the worry.

Michael isn’t able to make it to a meeting one day, and Pete almost keels over from how much it disappoints him and how startled he is over the disappointment. Pete can hind it fine, but it comes back and stings when Michael texts back ‘sorry. i missed you too.’ And Pete’s disgusted at how he’s pretending its singular, at how desperate he is for Michael’s attention.

An hour later Pete’s at Stark’s Pond, waiting on a bench for Michael, his hands are shaking and he’s certain it’s not from the cold, because Michael needed to talk now. If it was worth traveling nine blocks to a frozen lake at 4:17, it was serious enough. By the time Michael gets to the exact spot Pete’s about to leave.

"Where do we stand, Pete? I keep getting mixed signals that you hate me, but then we’re the closest friends in the world."

Pete flinches at ‘friends’, but Michael misinterprets it.

"Please tell me what I’m doing wrong here, Pete. Even if you’re upset, we’re friends. You can tell me anything." Michael’s voice is soft and supporting, like he’s trying to calm a scared animal and Pete wants to cry.

"That’s. That’s the problem. We’re friends" Pete grits out. "and I don’t want to, I-" his voice nearly breaks at the end.

"Oh.  _Oh._ "

Michael leans into Pete, and pulls him in closer to him. Pete’s find is reeling, but his attention goes to his confusion over how he got here, how cold it is, and how warm they feel.

"You could’ve just told me." Michael says softly, hugging Pete as comfortingly as he could.

Pete snorts, and exhales shudderingly, like he’s holding back tears. “I thought this was gonna be a lot scarier.” he says as he wraps his arms around Michael.

"It is pretty scary."

 


End file.
